Snide Pretense
by Miharu Endou
Summary: Of pastry shops, childhood nightmares, and engagement rings. "Well, I think the best way to treat this is with a 'mine is bigger than yours' strategy. You said she had a ring on her finger, right?" When Hermione nodded, he continued. "That was most likely an engagement ring. You need to have a bigger one."


**Snide Pretense**

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**Disclaimer: **The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This is a work of fiction (obviously), and all other characters are fictional. If your name is Georgia Finley, I'm sorry. Haha. I'm sure you're a lovely person, and you're nothing like the character in this short fic.

**Summary: **Of pastry shops, childhood nightmares, and engagement rings. "Well, I think the best way to treat this is with a 'mine is bigger than yours' strategy. You said she had a ring on her finger, right?" When Hermione nodded, he continued. "That was most likely an engagement ring. You need to have a bigger one."

**Rating: **T

**Pairing: **Hermione Granger/ Draco Malfoy

**Genre: **Humor/ Romance

Many thanks to my amazing beta reader, **spiritualwitch**! You're the best!

I'd like to dedicate this story to Ridley Silverlake and Vanilla Coated Love. You guys never cease to make me laugh, especially when I need it the most. I will always cherish our random conversations at ungodly hours. Hehe

And to you, I hope you like this. Have fun reading! :)

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Four years after the Second Wizarding War, Hermione Granger decided to buy a flat in Muggle London. The anonymity it gave her tempted her into moving there. No one would stop and openly gape at her. No one would ask her about her adventures with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. No one would treat her differently because of her participation in the war. No one knew who she was, and she absolutely loved it.

She appreciated the Wizarding community's gratitude towards her but her privacy was practically non-existent because of it. When all she wants to do was wind down and relax, she couldn't do that because people were always around to fawn over her status as a war hero. She endured their consistent pestering for four years, but when she discovered that it wouldn't end, she decided to move out.

It wasn't like she cut off all ties to the Wizarding world. Her flat was a five-minute walk from Leaky Cauldron, and she still worked for the Ministry. And despite her fallout with Ron, she still visited the Burrow every Sunday for brunch.

Now that she was living in Muggle London, whenever she wanted to read a book and enjoy her tea, she went to a pastry shop a few blocks from her flat—Patisserie Valerie. The cakes were absolutely divine, and the staff was kind and accommodating.

Patisserie Valerie was in Charing Cross Road, a bookworm haven, and she would go straight there after a hectic day at work. Harry and Ron would join her occasionally, Ron less often after they broke up. Most of the time, she went there alone. It was her special place, really.

She'd been living in Muggle London for two years now, and it was _perfect. _Too perfect. So when the peace finally ended, Hermione wasn't too surprised.

One spring afternoon, on a Saturday, as she was sitting in her usual booth in the corner, enjoying her tea and book, someone occupied the vacant seat in front of her. Before looking at the stranger, she looked around the pastry shop to see if there were other seats available. The shop was empty, save her, the staff, and the stranger.

She was about to politely ask him to move, but her mind went blank when she finally looked at the stranger's face. To her utmost horror, Draco Malfoy was sitting in front of her, reading the menu as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Before she could ask him why he was there, he raised his hand slightly to call for a waitress. He rested his chin on his palm as he stared at the approaching waitress with the nametag 'Abigail.' She looked new, Hermione thought.

"Mr. Drake," Abigail said, smiling widely at the blond. "How are you? What will you be getting today?"

He didn't bother to correct her. "I'll have the Madam Valerie Cream Tea set, if you will." He then looked at Hermione, acknowledging her for the first time. "You want anything, Granger? A refill, perhaps? It's on me."

Hermione merely shook her head, still in shock. When she looked at the waitress, she was sure she saw her smile falter. _Huh. _She fancies Malfoy. Surprise, surprise.

Abigail breathed in—to compose herself, probably—and smiled brightly at Malfoy. She nodded her head enthusiastically and said, "Alright then, Mr. Drake. I'll be back with your order shortly. Just call me if you need anything."

Hermione almost snorted at the waitress' obvious attraction towards Malfoy. The woman walked away, ruffling her blonde ponytail and swaying her hips exaggeratingly; Hermione wanted to hex a pig's tail on her arse. She found it annoying how the girl was too persistent on impressing Malfoy.

The waitress reminded her of Lavender Brown: blonde hair, tall physique, flirty body language. Lavender and Ron reunited shortly after the end of Hermione and Ron's short romance, and the two had been dating ever since.

When she remembered who was sitting in front of her, she closed the book she was holding, and narrowed her eyes at Malfoy. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I'm in this beautiful pastry shop, and I just ordered a drink. I think it should be obvious by now what I'm doing here, Granger." He was smirking at her.

Hermione wanted to wipe that smirk off his face; she scoffed. "I refuse to believe that the only reason you're in _Muggle _London is to have a cup of tea. And of all the pastry shops, you had to choose _this one_."

"What's wrong with this one? I happen to like Patisserie Valerie. Their tea tastes great, and their cakes are incomparable. The pastry shops in Diagon Alley wouldn't stand a chance. And what, pray tell, is wrong with me going to this part of London?"

She looked at him pointedly and crossed her arms. "You tell me."

Malfoy leaned back on his seat and just stared. Hermione huffed and glared at him. "Are you following me?"

Hermione was surprised when Malfoy laughed and shook his head. "Aren't you presumptuous?"

She looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping before she leaned forward and whispered, "Well, you don't see other wizards or witches roaming around this part of London, do you? I don't know how you found out I live here but, if I were you, I'd stop what I was planning."

"You live here? In Patisserie Valerie?" Malfoy looked genuinely surprised. He leaned forward the way Hermione did. "And why are we whispering?"

Hermione could only shake her head and roll her eyes at his playfulness. It was disturbing to see him this… friendly. "Of course I don't live in Patisserie Valerie. Seriously though, Malfoy. Why are you here? Are you even Malfoy?"

Before Malfoy could answer, Abigail was back with his order. Hermione noticed that the waitress had unbuttoned two buttons of her uniform blouse. She leaned down and handed Malfoy his tea and scones, her breasts at his eyelevel.

Hermione looked at Malfoy to see if he was enjoying the free view the waitress was giving him. Instead, she found him looking at the waitress in disgust.

The girl obviously had no idea how Malfoy was sneering at her, because she went on with whatever she was planning to do. Her breasts "accidentally" brushed his shoulders when she placed his order on the table. The bimbo even had the audacity to look abashed. "Sorry about that. Do you need anything else, Mr. Drake?"

"Yes," Malfoy said, and he still looked like he smelled something putrid. "I need you to stop sexually harassing me. And wear your uniform properly. This is a respectable establishment, and I'd appreciate it if the staff would act accordingly."

The waitress withdrew in shock, looking as if she were ready to cry, but she managed to button her blouse properly before leaving. Hermione glared at Malfoy. "You didn't have to be so mean."

"How was that mean?" He asked, plopping a sugar cube in his tea and stirring it neatly. "I merely told her to act properly. And it's not like you didn't agree with me, Granger. I saw how you looked at her."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Malfoy didn't look up from his drink. "I'm here as a businessman. And, as a businessman, I try to look for different avenues to invest in. I happen to think that some muggle establishments have the potential to make me more successful."

Hermione didn't look convinced. She hissed, her voice full of venom, "What happened to blood supremacy and all that? Don't you find muggles beneath you? Shouldn't you be convulsing in disgust at the sight of me, a _mudblood?" _

Malfoy cringed, his face losing the ever present smirk. "It's been six years since the war, Granger. Being a part of the losing side of a war that was started by a psychopath who believed in that blood supremacy rubbish changes things. I know this isn't enough, but I truly am sorry for how I treated you."

His apology sounded sincere. Hermione sniffed disdainfully and looked away. "How does your father feel about you venturing into this side of London?"

"He respects my decision and knows how good this is for our family. We need to restore our good name, and the first step is to create partnerships with clean and honest businesses. I've severed ties with shady establishments, and since I'm practically persona non grata in Wizarding London, I could only try and convince business owners who don't step back in disgust when they hear my name to venture into a partnership with me."

"But the Statute of Secre—"

"Yes, I know," He cut her off, smirking when she glared. "I can't reveal what I am to muggles, but I can to Squibs. Some have an idea of who I am, but they were willing to listen to my proposals."

When Hermione didn't say anything, he continued. "The patented Malfoy charm never fails. I'm an incredibly good-looking and wealthy twenty-four year old, so in the end, that's all that mattered. They knew that I knew what I was doing. That's all it took for them to trust me completely."

"Their mistake," Hermione muttered to herself, but Malfoy obviously heard it because he smirked at her once more.

"Not really. If I were in their position, and an incredibly good-looking person offered money to expand my business, I'd accept it right away."

"Incredibly good-looking. _Right. _Have you looked in the mirror lately, Malfoy? Or is that big head of yours too big to fit—_you have got to be kidding me."_

Just then, someone entered the pastry shop, seemingly ignorant of Hermione and Malfoy's presence. Hermione hid her face in her palms and groaned. If God was real, he was making fun of her wherever he is.

Georgia Finley, a girl from Hermione's muggle school, was inside her _favorite _place, still oblivious to the fact that Hermione was there. She was a tall and lean woman with long, gorgeous brunette hair, and on her left ring finger was a diamond ring that looked like an engagement ring.

Hermione hated Georgia Finley. She met Georgia when she was in primary school, and that girl was a total bitch. She acted like a good girl, always smiling at teachers and batting her eyelashes like some innocent angel. But when the teachers weren't around and there were no apples to polish, she brought hell to her classmates, Hermione especially.

For some reason, Georgia found Hermione's teeth and hair entertaining, and she would always call her out on it. When adults weren't around, Georgia would push Hermione around and call her mean names like "beaver-teeth" and "Hewbacca" (Hermione + Chewbacca).

Unfortunately, no one had the guts to tell on Georgia, because her father was a school governor of their old school.

Merlin, this girl was the female version of Malfoy, sans the blond hair and pale skin.

"Something wrong, Granger?"

Hermione glared at Malfoy and shushed him. He ignored her. "What's up with you?"

He then stared at the woman who entered the shop, and raised his brow. He nudged his head in Georgia's direction, and mouthed, 'Her?'

They watched Georgia go straight to the counter and talk to the manager. The manager, a short, balding man with a kind face, invited her to go with him to one of the convention rooms. When they were out of sight, Hermione sighed in relief.

"If I didn't know what the Dark Lord looked like, I would've thought that the woman who entered the shop was him."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. There was no way she'd hyperventilate in front of Malfoy.

"What did that woman do to you, Granger? Did she steal your boyfriend or something?"

She exhaled loudly and raised her hand in front of him, telling him to shut up. "For once in your life , Malfoy, _shut up."_

Malfoy shrugged and looked at the conference room door. "I can help, you know… in exchange for something, of course."

Now that's the Malfoy Hermione knew. She scoffed and shook her head. "I don't need your help."

"I think you do. That woman's bound to go out of that room soon, and what will you do if she sees you?"

He smirked when he saw her face go pale. He nodded his head slowly and said, "Right. Now, tell me who that woman is so I can help you."

"What do you want?" Hermione asked defeatedly, not trusting the man at all. With the look on his face, it was bound to be bad.

"It depends on what I'd do for you, of course. Now tell me how that woman got your wand in a knot so I can think of a plan." He looked at her expectantly.

Hermione was reluctant, but she ended up telling him about Georgia. By the end of her story, Malfoy was leaning back on his seat, stifling a laugh.

He said, "That woman sounds like a piece of work. Worthy of Slytherin house, if I do say so myself. It's a good thing I know how a Slytherin thinks. So, she's acted like she's better than you her whole life?"

"Just like you," Hermione muttered under her breath. Malfoy ignored her.

"Well, I think the best way to treat this is with a 'mine is bigger than yours' strategy. You said she had a ring on her finger, right?" When Hermione nodded, he continued. "That was most likely an engagement ring. You need to have a bigger one."

"I'm not sure about wizards, but in muggle culture, you need someone to propose to you to get an engagement ring. As far as I can remember, I'm single. No one's around to give me an engagement ring."

Malfoy wiggled his fingers in Hermione's face, and removed one of his rings. He handed it to her and said, "Hermione Granger, will you pretend to marry me?"

Hermione looked incredulously at the ring. It was a gold band with the Malfoy crest covered in small emerald stones. She could easily transfigure it into something that looked like an engagement ring.

She hesitated, but Malfoy took her hand, and placed the ring on her open palm. He said, "I'm perfect as a perfect fiancé, Granger. I'm attractive, and I'm rich. I should say I'm quite a catch, especially for you, _Hewbacca_,or whatever that girl called you."

She glared at Malfoy, and looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. When she was sure no one would her use magic, she took her wand and transfigured the ring under the table.

When she was done, she slipped it on her left ring finger and showed it to Malfoy. Malfoy clicked his tongue in distaste, and took the ring from her. She looked surprised. "Hey! I thought you were—"

"Granger, the size of this ring is an insult to me. I'm a Malfoy, and if you honestly think I'd give something this small and plain to my future wife—fake or real—then you don't know me at all. And this wouldn't even impress that Georgia girl. You need a more extravagant ring. Something heavier and sparklier."

He then transfigured it under the table before taking her hand and slipping it on her ring finger. Hermione stared at the ring in awe; it was a ring with bead-set diamonds embracing a clear, oval-cut diamond. It wasn't as extravagant or vintage as she expected a Malfoy engagement ring to be, but the huge diamond in the middle of the ring was enough to prove the wealth of their family.

Malfoy took her hand and examined his work. "I've only seen the Malfoy engagement ring a handful of times, but I'm pretty sure this is how it looks like. I heard Mother brag about it to her friends—it has a colorless diamond, flawless, ten carats. It's been passed on from one Malfoy wife to the next. They say King William I gave it to Armand Malfoy when he found out he was going to propose to his lover. Right now, the original ring is worth roughly two hundred thousand galleons or a million Great Britain pounds."

Hermione tried to pull her hand back, but Malfoy held onto it, clicking his tongue. He said, "If we're going to pretend to be engaged, you're going to have to pretend to love my touches."

She knew Malfoy was right, so she stopped trying to pull her hand away. She let Malfoy hold her hand (he was now drawing small patterns on her hand with his thumb), and tried to distract herself by asking about the ring. "King William I gave your ancestor the ring? William the Conqueror?"

"You didn't know? My ancestor served William I. The King even gifted him Malfoy Manor. Ironic, isn't it?" Malfoy looked amused when he said it.

Hermione almost wanted to smile. Ironic indeed. "So, where's this Malfoy engagement ring now? I've always thought people from traditional pureblood families married young."

"It's still with Mother," he said, letting go of her hand. He ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. Hermione watched as the neatly slicked back blond hair stood on end from the static of his hands. "After the war, she made sure Father never forced me to do anything against my will again. That meant no more arranged marriage for me. I would've been betrothed to Daphne Greengrass' barmy little sister if we went through with that. Annoying chit; wouldn't shut up for a second."

"You're a bachelor, then?"

Malfoy raised his brow at her, obviously amused by her curiosity. "Why, Granger, if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you fancy me. Yes, I'm a bachelor. How about you, then? What happened to you and Weaselbee? Everyone expected you to get married and have babies with hideous hair and freckled faces after the war."

Hermione shrugged. "We had a falling out. We're still good friends though, if that helps."

"So, the possibility of rekindling your romance with the git is still there?"

Hermione thought about it but eventually shook her head. "Not that it's any of your business or anything but no, I don't think so. We've been there, and it didn't really work. We're better off as friends."

Malfoy stared at her for a while, and then he huffed. "Huh. That was…anti-climactic. Your break-up, I mean. With all the fuss about you two, I would've expected a full-blown cheating scandal. And Weasel would be the one to fuck up, of course."

"Really? How did you imagine he 'fucked' it up, then?" Hermione didn't know if she should be touched or affronted for Ron that Malfoy thought he was the one who ruined the relationship.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "He seems to have his head shoved far up his arse most of the time with the way he acts and all that. He doesn't use his brain much, does he? Not that I'm saying he has one in the first place. I would've imagined him meeting some bimbo and shagging her crazy, forgetting he even had you. Like a dog: no regard for anything but his libido."

Hermione coughed to cover the laugh she tried to stifle. The thought of Ron being compared to a dog… it was quite apt—especially since his patronus was a beagle—but Hermione would never admit that. And well, Lavender _was_ sort of a bimbo. But it wasn't like Ron cheated on her for Lavender. He was very loyal to her, actually. They had a wonderful relationship at first but it was mostly fueled by the adrenaline of the war. When you've built a romantic relationship in a time where you weren't sure if you'll be alive to see the next day, it was bound to lose its fire someday.

"Ron's not a dog. He's just very…passionate. As much as your scenario amuses me, it was nothing of that sort. Our break up was the most boring of all break ups, and that's saying something, with Ron's temperament and all."

"Well, I'm happy for you. You deserve better than a _Weasley." _He said Ron's last name with a shiver, scrunching his nose in disgust.

"He's still my friend, you know," Hermione said, shaking her head at him.

He raised his arms in defense. "I was just saying. I may have been a bigoted kid back then, but even I knew you were better off than be with the likes of that freckled gi—Weasley."

The door to the conference room opened and Georgia walked out, the manager following behind. Malfoy took hold of Hermione's hand, and whispered, "Don't forget, Granger. We're supposed to be madly in love with each other."

Hermione wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Just before this, she'd never thought of Malfoy as a possible love interest. The blond hadn't even crossed her mind in years! It was perplexing to act like a newly engaged, lovesick fool, but the situation did not give her any other choice. Still, she was grateful that Malfoy suggested the idea, even if she owed Malfoy in exchange for his participation.

Speaking of exchange, he still hadn't mentioned what it was she was supposed to do for him after this. She was about to ask him just that, but she stopped when he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a seemingly chaste kiss on it. His heated stare was anything but.

_Merlin's beard. _She knew he was willing to pretend, but damn, if he kept this up, she might end up like Ron when he was flustered. He wasn't joking about the effect of the Malfoy charm.

She didn't realize her mouth was slightly open until Malfoy chuckled lowly and placed his hand on her chin to close her gaping mouth.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" He asked, saying her name a little too loudly.

Why did he have to say her name like that? "I-I… Uh, I—"

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?"

Malfoy let go of her chin, and Hermione looked up to see Georgia staring at her. She managed a fake smile before saying, "Yes. I'm Hermione. I'm sorry, have we met before? You look awfully familiar."

She didn't have to look at Malfoy to know how smug he looked. Georgia looked surprised, but she gave Hermione an equally fake smile. "I'm Georgia Finley. We went to the same primary school together?" Her voice went up at the end, as if she were asking a question.

"Georgia Finley," Hermione said slowly, pretending to look like she was trying to remember. She stood up, and so did Malfoy. "Oh yes! I remember you now! How are you?"

Georgia obviously didn't like that she was 'forgotten,' but she still managed to put on a smile. She noticed Malfoy standing next to Hermione, and she gave him a quick once over.

She then fixed her hair in a way that would expose her engagement ring. "I'm great. I was just cake tasting for my wedding. I got engaged a month ago, and my fiancé wants us to get married immediately."

"Congratulations," Hermione said with fake happiness, stopping when she felt Malfoy's hand on her waist.

Georgia's eyes travelled to Hermione's waist, and she looked at Malfoy, her eyebrows raised. She smiled at him and said, "And you are?"

Malfoy extended his free hand to her, and smiled regally. "I'm Draco Malfoy, Hermione's fiancé. How was the cake testing? I hope the cakes were to your liking."

Georgia looked as confused as Hermione. The manager, who was lagging behind Georgia, noticed Malfoy and immediately shook hands with him. He said, "Mr. Malfoy! I didn't notice you there. Have you been here long?"

"No," Malfoy said, smirking down at Hermione who was still looking confused. "I met up with my fiancé, and we were just sitting there in the corner. I haven't introduced you to her yet, have I?"

The manager smiled brightly at Hermione, and he gasped when he recognized her. "Oh yes! This young miss visits our branch frequently. One of our most loyal customers. I had no idea she was your fiancé. Lovely to meet you, future Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione covered her surprise with a chuckle. She smiled at the manager and said, "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Hermione Granger."

The manager took her hand and shook it happily. He looked so fidgety and excited that he reminded Hermione of a Chihuahua. She almost forgot Georgia Finley was standing in front of her. _Almost._

Georgia cleared her throat, frowning. "Oh, please. Do go on. Don't mind filling me in on whatever this is you're going on about."

The manager looked at her as if he forgot she was even there. He said, "Oh, yes. This is Mr. Draco Malfoy. He recently purchased Patisserie Valerie. All of our branches, if I've been informed correctly. You are looking at the new sole proprietor of Patisserie Valerie."

Hermione was floored. So that's why Malfoy nothing to say but compliments about Patisserie Valerie. He owned the whole bloody company! She felt Malfoy lightly squeeze her waist. She looked at him to see him wink at her. The pompous git must've realized that she finally believed that he was perfect for the fake fiancé act in this situation.

"Wow, Hermione," Georgia said, almost sneering. "I didn't expect _anyone _to be interested in you, let alone someone as affluent as Mr. Malfoy. I always thought you'd end up a spinster. You know, with twelve cats?"

"Please, call me Draco," Malfoy said. He frowned. "Why shouldn't anybody be interested in Hermione, though?"

Georgia made an effort to look innocent. _Bitch. _"Well, Hermione used to have these two _huge _front teeth, it was cute really. Made her look like a bunny rabbit or even a beaver, and she had really bushy hair. It was hard to find her face with all that hair. Hermione here also had the tendency to shoot her hand straight up every time the teacher asked a question. Glad to see you discovered a hair stylist, Herms. And your mum and dad finally did something with your teeth, yeah? You look better than before. Definitely better."

Malfoy stifled a laugh and covered it with a cough when Hermione elbowed him in the stomach. He then shrugged off what Georgia said. "Oh, that. She still looked like that when I met her, actually. We went to the same school after she left yours. The hand thing was kind of annoying at first, but we all got used to it. She was a bit of a know-it-all, but there's nothing wrong with that. She was still a spunky one despite being a teacher's pet, weren't you, _Herms?"_

"Speaking of schools," Georgia said, "Where did you go, Hermione? No one knew where you moved. Your parents were still in the neighborhood, so we reckoned they shipped you off somewhere far."

"Somewhere in Scotland," Hermione rushed, looking nervously at Malfoy. He didn't even look fazed. "It's a boarding school. Not really famous, you wouldn't know it. Really exclusive."

Malfoy nodded. "Yes, it was very hard to get admitted there. Very specific… _qualifications."_

"And Hermione passed?" Georgia asked, looking skeptical.

"With flying colors. Deserved every second she stayed there. She was one of the best. Heard some professor tell her she was the brightest wi—_student _of our age."

To give Malfoy credit, he did sound sincere when he said it. It was just quite surprising to finally hear him acknowledge her ability as a witch.

"You've given Herms too much credit. She can't be _that_ good." Georgia said, crossing her arms and giving Hermione a once over.

"I only give credit where credit is due."

Georgia then glanced at her obviously expensive watch. "Well, look at the time! I'm afraid I have to go. Lots of plans for my wedding, you see. But we should have dinner soon! My fiancé would love to meet you, Draco. And perhaps you, too, Hermione. Are you two free next Friday?"

'I'm free when you're rolling around in your grave', Hermione wanted to say. There was no way she'd eat dinner with that harpy. Malfoy, however, had different plans.

"We'd love to," Malfoy said, giving Georgia a business card. "Feel free to contact me any time about it."

Georgia handed Malfoy her business card. She then gave Hermione a kiss on both cheeks. "It's been lovely to see you, Hermione. I can't wait to catch up!"

"Me, too. Can't wait." Hermione clenched her teeth in an approximation of a smile.

When Georgia was gone, Hermione went back to her booth and slumped in her seat. She sighed and watched Malfoy resume his seat in front of her. "God, I do _not _want to eat dinner with her. I might vomit on her."

Malfoy looked at her in disgust. "As entertaining as that would be, please don't. Future Malfoy brides do not act graceless in front of company, much less retch."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not really a future Malfoy bride, so you won't have to face a problem like that."

Malfoy shook his head and leaned forward. "You are until Friday. We're going to dinner with them, aren't we? By the way, we need to talk about our battle plan for Friday. Unlike you Gryffindors, we Slytherins prepare before an attack. We make sure there are no loopholes."

"You sound like you're enjoying this far too much," Hermione said.

"I am," Malfoy said. "It's been too long since I did anything like this, and I've been bored. It's a good way to pass time. Is your floo network open?"

"Huh? Why?"

He looked at her as if the answer was obvious. "I'm going to your place on Friday to pick you up, aren't I? It would be weird if we went to the restaurant or wherever we're going to separately."

Hermione wrote her floo network name on a spare napkin and gave it to Malfoy. He folded it neatly and placed it inside his pocket, smirking at her. "I might pay you a surprise visit this week. To talk about our plan for Friday, and what I need you to do for me."

Before Hermione could say anything, Malfoy stood up and went to give her a kiss on the cheek. Hermione couldn't decide whether to slap him or not.

Malfoy shook his head and patted the cheek he kissed like she was a child. "You wouldn't want to slap your fiancé for kissing you goodbye now, do you, Granger? I'll see you next week, then."

Hermione watched him walk away, already feeling the dread overwhelming her. "What did I just sign up for?"

* * *

By the way, Patisserie Valerie is a real pastry shop in UK. And, the idea that Malfoy Manor was given by King William I is canon. The engagement ring, however, is not.


End file.
